


had a fall

by oncomingstorm13



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, Minor The Doctor | Theta Sigma/The Master | Koschei (Doctor Who: Academy Era), Team TARDIS, Thoschei, and the Master just needs her to be careful, babe can you be more careful I love you, team TARDIS ever so slightly Perceiving thoschei, the Doctor needs to control her selflessness, two ancient aliens in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-28
Updated: 2020-07-28
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:35:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25574422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oncomingstorm13/pseuds/oncomingstorm13
Summary: The Doctor has a dangerous fall. The Master needs her to take better care of herself.
Relationships: Thirteenth Doctor/The Master (Dhawan)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 88





	had a fall

The Master woke up one morning to see that the Doctor was gone from their bed. 

It was unusual, given that she usually slept so much more than him, but he didn't mind it much. She was probably off with the humans again, and he needed a break from them often. He needed a break from her only occasionally, a small amount of time to think his own thoughts without her delightedly rambling on about something or other. 

Still in his button-down and trousers, he yawned and stretched on the bed, slowly waking to the new day. Maybe she'd just gone off to the console room to tinker. He'd make his way there. 

He got there, and no sign of her or the humans. Off on some adventure, he suspected. He wasn't much for those, at least not with them around. They didn't trust him, and he didn't much like them. They took her attention away from him. She cared about them so much and was still warming up to him, despite their years of history. She was moving forward, yes, but at an infuriatingly slow pace. Still didn't trust him with everything, and maybe her "fam" was a reason for that. But she could be just as stubborn on her own.

He looked at the time on the console and realized that it was much later than morning. No wonder she was already gone, he had slept much longer than usual. Pity. He had wanted to try out some new things on her before their daily adventures. Some things she'd never dare to even think about in front of her friends, much less let them know she was in favor of, things he'd delighted in fantasizing about. Maybe they would get to those later.

Just as he was about to go off to the library for the remainder of the day, Yaz burst through the doors of the TARDIS. The Master turned and looked at her with indifference, then turned to leave again until she spoke urgently.

"Master, wait! We need your help."

Before he could respond with some snide comment, Graham and Ryan rushed in, struggling to carry the limp form of the Doctor in their arms. The Master's hearts stopped.

Yaz looked at him with desperate eyes. " _ She  _ needs your help."

The Master rushed over to the Doctor as Ryan and Graham set her gently on the floor. The Master, face showing nothing but seriousness and determination, checked her pulse at her neck. Two beats, at least. 

"What happened?" The Master asked. They began to speak but he interrupted. "Wait, no, tell me on the way to our bedroom."

Ryan and Yaz exchanged a glance at his use of the word " _ our _ " but didn't question it, the situation too urgent to get sidetracked. 

"She had a fall," said Graham, watching the Master lift the Doctor on his own. They followed him as he walked quickly away from the console room. 

" _ How _ ?"

"She and this girl were being chased by these monsters, and they were about to close in on the girl," explained Ryan, "but the Doctor pushed her out of the way so they couldn't, and she tumbled off a cliff with them."

"God, that is so like her," the Master muttered as he approached their bedroom door. "Anything else?"

"She's not doing good," Yaz spoke with worry. "She was mumbling things, and by the time we got to the TARDIS she was completely out."

"Open this," the Master nodded toward the door knob, and Yaz obeyed hurriedly. The Master rushed in and set the Doctor on the bed. "Mumbling? What was she mumbling?" 

"We couldn't tell. Some other language," said Yaz. "But we think she mentioned your name at one point."

"And someone named 'Ko-shay'?" added Graham. 

The Master sighed and chuckled despite his stress. He sat next to her, assessing what his next move should be, then turned to the humans. "You need to leave."

"What? Why?" Yaz protested. 

Irritated as he was with them, he knew he must speak calmly in order to get them to leave. "I've got to help her," he said plainly.

"Okay, but why can't we stay?" Ryan asked. 

The Master sighed. "For one, it'll help me concentrate if you three aren't hovering around with your nervous energy. Go get some rest," he half-smiled. "And two, she needs room. She needs as much air as she can get,  _ especially _ if she's got a bad head injury."

There was a brief pause before any of them spoke again. 

"How do we know we can trust you with her?" Yaz asked quietly.

He tried to not let the comment enrage him. "Because," he spoke calmly, " _ she _ trusts me."

Yaz looked at Ryan and Graham. They nodded and turned to leave, and Yaz followed, even if it was with a second backward glance at the Master and the Doctor. They shut the door behind them, and the Master quickly went to work. 

He moved her hair out of her face, checking for signs of damage on the front of her head. Then, he touched all around her head, checking for bumps or scars or dents, anything that would show signs of significant damage.

No signs found, thankfully. But something was still wrong, else she wouldn't be in such a state. 

He lifted and bent her limbs for signs of other damage, like broken arms or legs. Nothing but several bloody gashed and dark bruises. Would hurt, but not fatal. Then he lifted her to sit up, having her head slump against one arm as he touched for broken bones up and down in her spine. Apparently, none. So far. He was no doctor, but he had lots of experience with breaking things. Lastly, he felt around her lower stomach for punctures to any vital organs, any signs of ruptures, or internal bleeding. He'd have to try to scan her later with actual medical equipment the TARDIS had, but there was no time now.

The Master decided there was one thing that was almost sure to work to at least find out what she needed to heal. He hoped she would forgive her for intruding, but it had to be done.

He placed his hands at her temples and entered her mind. The "place" was distressingly silent and dark, very unlike the welcome, bright, sometimes loud mind the Doctor revealed to him when they would do this recreationally. Now he was really worried. 

_ Doctor. He _ spoke into her mind.

_ Master?  _ An unfeeling, tired-sounding voice spoke quietly, but still echoed throughout.

_ Doctor,  _ he spoke again, with urgency,  _ I need you to tell me what to do to help you. Can you discern where the damage is precisely?  _

_ Everything hurts, Koschei _ .

Outside her mind, his hearts sunk in his chest. 

_ I know. But you've been knocked out cold and I need you to tell me what's causing you to stay like this.  _

_ I'm so tired… _

_ Doctor.  _ Theta.  _ I need you to focus. You can rest soon enough.  _

There was a silence, and he hoped it was due to her assessing her injuries.  _ I hit the back of my head rather hard... occipital lobe or cerebellum...might have internal bleeding. Feels very...oww… _

"Shit," he said aloud, and picked her body up again, carrying her swiftly out the door and to her TARDIS' medbay. 

_ Koschei.  _ They were still in each other's minds, though his focus was on setting her down on a hospital bed and frantically setting medical scanners on her. She was reaching out to him, asking for his presence as an emotional comfort in spite of her physical pain.

_ I'm still here, love. I need to concentrate on fixing you up, though.  _

_ Right _ . 

He tapped on the screens, watching and waiting for results of neurological scans and physiological scans and  _ especially  _ core vital signs like heart rates, mental activity, and the like. His own hearts were beating rapidly, but he kept all his adrenaline for use of helping her, not panicking. 

Suddenly, relief flowed through his anxiety-ridden body. She didn't have internal bleeding. She hadn't damaged her brain fatally. Bodily, she would only take a couple of days to recover. 

On one screen, the diagram of a humanoid body that represented hers had locations where she was injured lit up in red, but typed next to them in Gallifreyan language would translate to simply " _ EXTERNAL INJURIES _ ." He could fix that quite quickly, just needed to disinfect and wrap some bandages around them. 

On another screen, showing a generic image of a humanoid head, the back parts of her brain–the ones she had theorized were damaged, to her credit–were lit in red, but thankfully, next to it said " _ CONCUSSION."  _ No horrible damage. Just a bit of a mild traumatic brain injury. He could deal with that. 

The Master turned off the scanners and approached the Doctor. He sighed, half in physical relief of the great stress he had undergone in the past few minutes, half in relief that she was okay. But still, he watched her for a moment. Made sure she was breathing. Saw her eyelids twitch. Saw her moving in a barely-alive but just-alive-enough way, her chest rising and falling and her lips parting to take in more air. 

_ Doctor _ , he said into her mind, wrapping his hand around hers gingerly.  _ You need to wake up now. You can't stay asleep just yet, but I promise you will soon.  _ He felt as if he was speaking to a child, but he knew that was how they felt in their minds together: their thoughts were so simple inside because it was so much easier to express oneself without words. Really, only concepts of thoughts were necessary in their minds, not articulated ones. 

_ Tired, Koschei.  _

He squeezed her hand, hoping her nerves would do their job sending the signals to her brain.  _ Please. We need to talk.  _

He let her be for a while as he worked on gathering supplies to fix her up: bandages, a soft cloth soaked in some disinfectant the TARDIS had gratuitously provided, as well as an ice pack for her concussion. 

He has just begun to clean a wound on her shoulder when she slowly awoke. It was probably the cold sensation of the disinfectant that had awoken her, but he had hoped she had been at least trying to wake herself during that time. She hissed as she came to, evidently feeling a sting as the chemicals did their work on her injury. 

"Hello," the Master said without looking away from her arm. He set the cloth down and reached for bandage wraps, lifting her arm to loop it beneath her shoulder. She groaned at the movement but said nothing of it.

"Hello," she spoke, squinting as she took in her surroundings. "Medbay?"

"Yeah."

"Ah." 

He began to wrap the bandage cloths tightly around her shoulder, and she winced. He wrapped around again, adding another layer, another  _ tighter _ layer, and she let out a small cry of pain. 

"Sorry," he said without much apology in his voice. As he finished the wrapping, he asked, finally looking at her face, "Mind telling me how you got like this?"

She was looking at her wounds on her arms. "I had a fall, I believe."

"I  _ know  _ that. The humans told me. How do you think you got here?" 

"There's not much more to it," the Doctor attempted to shrug and realized quickly that it would  _ not  _ be worth extra pain. 

The Master looked her in the eyes, glaring knowingly. 

She stared back. "What?"

"You've  _ got  _ to stop doing things like this."

"Like  _ what _ ?"

"Sacrificing yourself for random people, Doctor!" 

The Doctor was confused. The Master was angry at her–nothing new, honestly–but for an accident? For trying to save a little girl?

"She was a  _ child _ ! I had to help her," bitter anger rose in her voice. 

"You didn't have to go and  _ fall off a cliff  _ for her!" He reached for the disinfecting cloth and began wiping at a scar on the side of her neck with it. She let out a sharp breath. 

"It was an _accident_. _Obviously_ I never intended to do that!"

"But you're so  _ reckless _ ." The Master still sounded angry, but now there was something else in his voice. Something worried. 

"Don't you ever think about what would happen if you put yourself too much into harm's way?"

She furrowed her brow as she stared at him, scanning his eyes for the meaning of his words. 

"I've–of course I have–"

"Really? Have you truly thought about the effect it would have?"

"Are you asking if I've thought about death? Do you  _ remember  _ the Time War?"

"No, no," he sighed, putting the cloth aside yet again to reach for an adhesive bandage. He took off its paper backing gently stuck it on the scar on her neck. She winced but continued to stare at him. "I mean have you thought about what the universe would do without you?"

She breathed deeply. "No. I can't say I have."

"Well, it wouldn't be too well off. Planets and galaxies would die," he moved to the other side of her to dab at a scar on her alternate shoulder with the disinfectant, "Entire civilizations would collapse and fall to the whims of the evil and deranged," he spared a glance at her, "And I would  _ severely _ miss you."

A small smile appeared on the Doctor's lips. "Really?"

"Really." He nodded, placing another adhesive bandage on her arm. "And your humans would too, I suppose. But nowhere near as much as I would."

"That's interesting to hear," said the Doctor, a certain smugness seeping into her voice.

The Master rolled his eyes. "I'm serious. You  _ have  _ to be more careful."

"Why am I getting a lecture on self-preservation by someone who literally stabbed theirself,  _ then  _ shot theirself within the same minute?" 

" _ I  _ did things like that in the past because I was angry, emotional, frightened. I don't do those things out of self-righteousness, but rather for my own survival. Plus, there's a thrill in it sometimes," he added with a smirk as he raised and bent one of her arms with both hands to test her motor function. "Nothing like almost dying to feel truly alive. But anyway. This is about you and your annoying 'selflessness'." At the final word he mimed air quotations. 

The Doctor protested. "I've made it this far, haven't I? I'm still alive. And it's not a matter of selflessness, it's just  _ instinct _ . I see someone in need and I help them as much as I can."

The Master was silent for a moment. "Ever thought about helping  _ yourself _ for a change?"

The Doctor paused before answering. "Of course. I'm alive, so I must do that all the time."

"Aren't you  _ tired _ ?" The Master was finally focusing his attention on her rather than her wounds now, his shining eyes soft with concern. "Can't you take a  _ break _ ?" He looked away again as he adjusted the icepack behind her head.

"Do you even have any sort of reward? Do you get  _ anything  _ out of it?"

The Master, the Doctor realized, would always have a hard time understanding why she acted for others the way she did. Her whole life as she knew it, she had been inclined to help beings of the universe wherever and whenever possible. She sought justice and peace as much as she could. A small, quiet part of her didn't ever fully know why she believed that to be important to her, except for the fact that it was simply  _ good _ . It was right. It was decent.

It was  _ kind _ . 

She had told him that once, on the day she begged him to stand with her. He–as "she" then–had cried. He hoped he remembered her words, or someday would.

"I get my reward by knowing what I do is probably what is best to keep this universe going." The Doctor reached out and entwined her fingers with the Master's. "To keep people alive, and free, and sometimes even happy. My reward is knowing that even if I become someone completely different, that will always be at the center of my identity."

She looked up at him, anticipating scoffing, a disappointed stare, anything that the Master would have usually, in his past, used to retaliate against her profound words promoting good. But he really had changed, she decided. He was smiling at her and was glancing down at her fingers entangled with his. 

He laughed and shook his head. "I don't think I'll ever understand you. But I do know that I want to understand your frankly bombastic philosophies with all my hearts." He grinned and lifted her hand to his to kiss it. "You're such an egomaniac, but I guess it's at least for good reason."

"Oi!" she laughed. "Look who's talking."

"Oh, I have good reason too. It's because I'm so charming and clever and  _ hot _ ."

"Mm… maybe one out of three of those."

"What? Which one?" The Master asked, maybe a little too eagerly. 

The Doctor reached up a hand to trail a finger along his jaw. " _ Hot _ ."

The Master shot her an amused look and decided, "Right. I think your concussion might be beginning to take it's toll, dear. Let's get you somewhere to rest easier."

He picked her up as he had brought her in, eliciting a surprised laugh from her.

"Ah, now  _ this _ is what I call  _ hospitality _ !" The Doctor exclaimed, wrapping arms around his neck. 

"Promise me one thing, Doctor." 

The Master was serious again, his eyes fixed firmly on hers. 

She looked at him expectantly.

"Promise me you'll be more careful in the future. I don't know what I'd do without you."

The Doctor strained her head up to kiss him softly on the cheek. "I promise," she spoke quietly. "So long as you're careful too.

He nodded. "Good. You promised, remember that. And so did I." 

They left the medbay, the Doctor shouting to her fam, "Yaz, Graham, Ryan! I'm  _ alive _ !" in a playful voice. 

"Barely!" The Master muttered, but allowed a smile to form on his lips.


End file.
